Panicked
by lilybirds
Summary: - "I'm not going out there," Stiles said immediately when all eyes turned to him as soon as no one volunteered. But of course Derek was going to be the petulant Alpha, glaring at him from across the room. "No, like, really, I'm not."


The wolves had finally all agreed that meeting with the Argents would probably be a wise idea, all things considered and the fact that an Alpha attack had announced their arrival. But after agreeing, it soon became clear that none of the pack actually felt like going out there and facing an entire gang of people who wanted to kill them. Derek had immediately dismissed the idea and Stiles had only barely managed to convince the rest of the pack with the help of Deaton, but none of them were eager to be the one to go, so of course when it came down to it, Stiles was the lucky one.

"I'm not going out there," Stiles said immediately when all eyes turned to him as soon as no one volunteered. But of course Derek was going to be the petulant Alpha, glaring at him from across the room. "No, like, really, I'm not. I know I was first choice before this whole thing with the Argents started and we all thought they don't hurt humans, with their whole code, but since Gerard Argent beat the shit out of my face with his fists… I think it's safe to say we can rule that one out. So no. Go do it yourself, with your stupid healing powers," Stiles waved halfheartedly with his hand. "And your face."

Carefully avoiding looking at Isaac and Scott, because they probably had their kicked puppy face on, and not making eye contact with Derek, because of the whole murderous eyes thing, Stiles settled on watching Boyd. Boyd was nice.

"You're going," Derek said, resolutely and Stiles glared, before getting an idea. "I'm calling Allison." he said, to which Derek looked surprised for a second before his face settled back into the grumpy cat expression. "I mean it, I am and she's going to give my number to her dad's batshit cult and then I'll talk to them. It's like a Skype date. Sort of."

The wolves didn't complain, and Derek begrudgingly agreed.

* * *

An hour later they soon realized the call wasn't going to work out at all. Instead of getting Chris Argent on the phone, Stiles had to deal with the biggest asshole on the planet, and Gerard 2.0 had no trouble making scathing remarks about Stiles' position in the pack whenever he could. The pack, sitting around him, listened to Stiles trying to remain cool as he paced around the room, but of course, it could only go on for so long before it all blew up.

"Your mother would probably be turning around in her grave if she knew you were a werewolf's pack chew toy, huh?"

And then bam.

"What the fuck did you just fucking say about me, you little bitch? I'll have you know I graduated top of my class in the Navy Seals, and I've been involved in numerous secret raids on Al-Quaeda, and I have over 300 confirmed kills. I am trained in gorilla warfare and I'm the top sniper in the entire US armed forces. You are nothing to me but just another target. I will wipe you the fuck out with precision the likes of which has never been seen before on this Earth, mark my fucking words. You think you can get away with saying that shit to me over the Internet? Think again, fucker. As we speak I am contacting my secret network of spies across the USA and your IP is being traced right now so you better prepare for the storm, maggot. The storm that wipes out the pathetic little thing you call your life. You're fucking dead, kid. I can be anywhere, anytime, and I can kill you in over seven hundred ways, and that's just with my bare hands. Not only am I extensively trained in unarmed combat, but I have access to the entire arsenal of the United States Marine Corps and I will use it to its full extent to wipe your miserable ass off the face of the continent, you little shit. If only you could have known what unholy retribution your little "clever" comment was about to bring down upon you, maybe you would have held your fucking tongue. But you couldn't, you didn't, and now you're paying the price, you goddamn idiot. I will shit fury all over you and you will drown in it. You're fucking dead, kiddo."

Stiles hung up the phone and the room was quiet as everyone stared.

"Yeah," Stiles dragged out, awkwardly. "I guess I panicked a little."

* * *

eheheheh.


End file.
